Three Steps
by Dicci
Summary: A collection of drabbles loosely based on personal experiences from New York City, as encountered by the Major Case detectives.


**Disclaimer:** Law & Order: Criminal Intent is property of Wolf Films production in association with NBC Universal Television Studio. No monetary gain was sought or received by the writer (So I don't have the money for a lawsuit.).

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Investment

Midtown Manhattan  
Monday, July 3

Detective Goren held his little brown-leather notebook securely under one arm, protecting it from the busy people who moved past him on their way down 5th Avenue. He didn't care for the crowd; they made it too hard to think. With the holiday drawing nigh – the 4th of July weekend was always a popular one – and the nice weather at the end of an otherwise dreary week, the city had come alive.

The detectives had been led to Midtown Manhattan by a trail of concrete evidence; from a broken-into safe, to a fingerprint, to a prior, then a name, and lastly to an apartment. Carver had supplied a warrant for the search but not arrest, which would follow – if they discovered anything incriminating. The detectives were confident they would.

Eames had been driving, as usual, when she parked their SUV in a rare, available, spot and declared that, "Manhattan has the worst drivers on Earth! We can walk these two blocks!"

Bobby didn't argue; he feared for his well being. He was regretting it now. The apartment seemed very far away under the summer heat and a suit jacket.

"It's no wonder O'Hare had to steal that money," Eames said. She was moving much more nimbly through the approaching sea of people than her partner, who was just trying to stay behind her in the space she made. "What's the rent on an apartment in this area?"

"For a two bedroom…$1.4 million," Goren replied offhandedly, then adding, "as of 2004."

Eames peered over her shoulder at him. Her question had been rhetorical, but she should have known better. "Right."

Bobby touched her shoulder. "Watch the cars."

She turned back, facing the street she had almost walked out into. On the opposite side a red hand was illuminated cautiously, warning the pedestrians not to tangle with the speeding taxis.

Around them, a group was gathering. By the way the huddled, Goren assumed they were all together. Tourists, maybe. One had a map crunched in her hand and said, pointing to a group of trees edging out from behind a restaurant, "There's Central Park."

A man holding a cup, looking for handouts on the street corner, laughed into the crowd, "Yeah, there's the park!" He waved his hands erratically, the loose change in his cup bouncing. "I don't recommend it, too many dogs!"

Alex could see a light in her partner's dark eyes. It was the sort of spark that came to life when he found an interesting person to watch or speak with. He took a small step forward, and looked as though he would reply, but the other man continued.

"Cell phones!" he called, prompted by one of the tourists fiddling with their camera phone. "Invest in cell phones! Put your money into cell phones!"

"Yeah?" Bobby asked. "Why's that?"

The man with the cup of change matched Goren's excited grin. "They're puttin' ID chips in them," he swore.

"I bet they are!" the detective laughed. He looked at Eames, who stared back with a blank, too-used-to-this, expression.

"The police won't ask you to show your ID," the scruffy man continued. "They'll ask you to show your cell phone!"

The light on the opposite side of the road was flashing a green pedestrian. Eames watched the group thin out as they hurried across the street. She wondered which man they were trying to get away from. "Bobby."

"It's not a bad idea-"

"Bobby."

"-for them to do that."

"Bobby!" She was stepping onto the crosswalk.

Her partner reluctantly moved away from the man with the bucket of change, as ifhe'd just rememberedwhat he was doing on that street corner.He did not stepoff the sidewalkbefore dropping a fistful of coins in the cup. It was a reasonable price for a good conversation.

"I think it's time to get my money off the market," Alex said breezily.

"Yeah..." Goren was gazing longingly over his shoulder, not really listening.

* * *

_Though based on a true story, these characters are fictional... Except for the man collecting change, but I gave him a dollar so I think that's all right? Well, nobody tell him. Just in case._


End file.
